66- Will spell

"Wait," Forsyth said, delaying Robert. He settled himself on the bed in a comfortable manner. "Since I'll be glued here with no fun stuff to do -besides killing that little bitch- I think it's fair to tell me more about yourself. I mean, this self- this body, the reason you created this appearance. I bet it will also keep you entertained after living in this boring house for years."

He gestured to Robert with his finger to pass him the bottle of wine on the shelf. Robert had kept it there for cleansing purposes, but Forsyth doesn't mind drinking it. As far as it's alcohol.

"And what makes you think I'll agree to that?" Robert cocked his old brows.

Forsyth shrugged his shoulders. "I think you know me, or you wouldn't have let me live for a second. By the looks of things, you're cruel. In a good way though." He then smiles cheekily at Robert.

"Trying to have your way with your sly words, aren't you?"

"Is it working?" His smile slowly turned to a grin.